When I am dead unto myself, and l… O Father, thee live on in me, Contented to do nought but pay my… And leave the house to thee, Then shall I be thy ransomed-from…

Trust my father, saith the eldest-… I did trust him ere the earth bega… Not to know him is to be forlorn; Not to love him is-not to be man. He that knows him loves him altoge…

As to her child a mother calls, ‘Come to me, child; come near!’ Calling, in silent intervals, The Master’s voice I hear. But does he call me verily?

Were thou and I the white pinions On some eager, heaven-born dove, Swift would we mount to the old do… To our rest of old, my love! Were thou and I trembling strands

O do not leave me, mother, lest I… Till I forget, be near me in that… The mother’s presence leads her do… Leaves her contented there. O do not leave me, lover, brother,…

A child was born in sin and shame, Wronged by his very birth, Without a home, without a name, One over in the earth. No wifely triumph he inspired,

I have a puppet-jointed child, She’s but three half-years old; Through lawless hair her eyes glea… With looks both shy and bold. Like little imps, her tiny hands

One do I see and twelve; but seco… Methinks I know thee, thou belove… Not from thy nobler port, for ther… More quiet-featured: some there ar… Their message on their brows, whil…

Beautiful mother is busy all day, So busy she neither can sing nor s… But lovely thoughts, in a ceaseles… Through her eyes, and her ears, an… Motion, sight, and sound, and scen…

O night, send up the harvest moon To walk about the fields, And make of midnight magic noon On lonely tarns and wealds. In golden ranks, with golden crown…

The miser lay on his lonely bed; Life’s candle was burning dim. His heart in an iron chest was hid Under heaps of gold and an iron li… And whether it were alive or dead

‘Traveller, what lies over the hil… Traveller, tell to me: Tip-toe-high on the window-sill Over I cannot see.’ ‘My child, a valley green lies the…

Job XIV. 13-15. RONDEL. Would that thou hid me in the grav… And kept me with death’s gaoler-ca… Until thy wrath away should wear

In that high country whither thou… Right noble friend, thou walkest w… The gathered great of many a hundr… Few are left like thee-few, I say… Else were thy England soon a Baby…

Oh holy Sabbath bells, Ye have a pleasant voice! Through all the land your music sw… And man with one commandment tells To rest and to rejoice.